Lovely As You Are
by yaba
Summary: And Jane has to smile, because only his Lisbon would have doubts in this particular moment after everything they've been through together. Jane, Lisbon, and a series of moments that define what they really mean to each other. AU Post-mid S3. Future Fic.
1. January 2014

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: In my attempt to work on another plot bunny, I had the urge to write some much needed fluff. This was supposed to be a one-shot but midway I decided I wanted to turn it into a series, so expect more soon. I want to thank my beta for this, **Duppy Conqueror**, for her invaluable advice and great editing skills. Also, I'd like to dedicate this to **hardly loquacious** who wrote me an amazing Christmas fic and has been waiting patiently for hers, thank you!

xxx

"_The most important things are the hardest to say, because words diminish them_."  
- Stephen King

xxx

_**January 2014**_

She watches the few brave souls scurrying along the nearly barren rainy streets and sends a silent prayer upward that she made it home in time to escape the worst of Sacramento's annual winter rainstorm.

The house is strangely quiet, a little like it used to be, back when she lived alone. Back then she would have dreaded the all too deafening silence, but this afternoon she welcomes it, relishes it almost, as she leans further into the loveseat. The steam from the mug in her hand pleasantly warms her chin as she closes her eyes and wills herself to clear all other thoughts from her mind, leaving work and other nuisances behind.

It's not that easy, especially not for someone in her line of work, but somehow after a few moments, she actually manages to push images of crime scene photos, triplicate forms and the anxiety inducing reminder that she has court tomorrow out of her mind.

However, that doesn't alleviate the pressure building in her chest and she tightens her fingers around the mug, taking a long sip of the herbal tea, if only to calm her frazzled nerves. She wonders in retrospect how she managed to close a case and sign off on both Cho's and Rigsby's reports in time to clock out at a reasonable hour.

She realizes now, in the quiet solitude of her home, that while work may be stressful at times, at least today it provided a much needed distraction, thus staving off an in office panic attack. For, as cool and calm as she is usually, her current predicament is exactly the type of situation that could make the usually level-headed Special Agent Teresa Lisbon lose all her composure.

Damn him, she thinks, wishing she could take the edge off with something a little stronger than tea, but realizing that given their impending conversation, that may not be such a good idea.

Of course, the fact that soon the silence around her will surely be disturbed doesn't quell her worry either. For the first time in over two years, knowing that at any minute now he'll come barreling through the front door, shaking the remnants of heavy rain both from his golden curls and the fine thread of his suit doesn't make her smile, doesn't tug at her heart the same way it has for as long as there have been two toothbrushes at her bathroom sink.

Instead, Lisbon finds that she's nervous, even a little terrified, attune to every sound around her as if she can somehow prepare herself for when she hears the faint sound of footsteps on the porch, and the scratching of a key in her front door.

If she takes a moment to reflect, which she really hasn't since she left for work this morning, she would probably be unable to identify the specific reason she is so afraid. Despite halting her distraction, she's far too scared to actually consider the situation, worried that with just an ounce of contemplation, she will change her mind…and that's not something that's an option now.

It hasn't been an option for a long time, probably not since that fateful morning so many moons ago when she stepped into her supervisor's office to find that an infuriating consultant, of whom she had up until then only heard slightly terrifying stories about-but hadn't officially met- was being assigned to her team. She probably should have fought harder against the decision instead of accepting it as complacently as she did, but even now she doesn't regret it. She _can't_, because regardless of how much grief he has caused her and how many years he's probably shaved off her life, she can't imagine her life without Patrick Jane in it.

Especially the last two years.

The thought makes her smile unwittingly. Flashes of memories that she's never shared with anyone else seem to be the only force capable of dissolving the pressure in her chest and before Lisbon is even aware of it, she feels the same sense of anticipation bubbling inside her. It's then that she realizes her own foolishness.

It's amusing really, that while others would be ecstatic right now, unable to keep the news bottled up inside, she's sitting in the dark brooding, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea while attempting to keep the anxiety at bay.

And what for exactly?

She shudders to think that her past experiences could still weigh so heavily on her that she can't even allow herself to be happy in those rare, precious moments reserved for such unadulterated joy and excitement.

The realization seems to spur her into action, causing her to abandon her post by the window and retreat into the kitchen, a plan already taking root.

xxx

Later, if anyone asked him whether he had anticipated what transpired when he got home that evening, Jane would probably dazzle that person with his brilliant smile and answer that of course he'd expected it, because frankly there's no way something like this would have slipped his focus.

However, as he pushes open the front door to find several dozen candles strategically placed around the living room, Jane realizes that he's both a little nervous and surprised.

The delicate flames flicker in response to the gust of wind barreling into the room and he carefully shuts the door behind himself, afraid to disturb the tranquility around him. He's so focused on absorbing the scene, he doesn't realize he's not alone in the room until a soft and familiar voice diverts his attention to the kitchen.

"You sort of caught me off guard last night. I figured it would only be fair that I return the favor."

There's a hint of mirth in her tone, but one look into those expressive green eyes and Jane knows that above all else, Lisbon is also nervous but trying to hide it extremely well. For some reason, that seems to sooth his own anxiety enough for him to take a few steps towards her, lips curving into a smile.

"And…"

He teasingly trails off, feeling slightly more in control as he crosses the threshold into the kitchen, the familiar scent of Lisbon's perfume chasing away any lingering doubt. Ever since he posed the question, he's had difficulty affecting his usual persona of imperviousness. However, being this close to her again, in the solitude of their home, without any distractions both validates the reason for his earlier proposition and reminds him that he's doing the right thing.

There's no guilt and if he's honest with himself, there hasn't been in quite a while, and this knowledge propels him forward, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. If Lisbon seems surprised by his action, she doesn't give any sign. Instead, she smirks, revealing the familiar dimple that's begging to be kissed.

"And I think that despite your attempt to conceal it, you are at least a little surprised." Lisbon asserts over-confidently, brushing away a nonexistent speck of lint from the lapel of his suit.

She's not sure if that's what gives her away, but when she looks up again and catches the flicker of worry in Jane's eye, she knows that this playful teasing has been merely an interlude, that he deserves an answer and she plans on giving him one.

Sensing her tension, Jane draws her closer, pressing against her as he inhales the calming scent of her shampoo, "Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I'm just surprised that you still haven't given me an answer."

The warmth of his breath against her ear, paired with the thickness of his tone sends a shiver down her spine, but Lisbon resists, sliding her hand into his and stepping away from their embrace.

"We should sit down." She suggests, already pulling him towards the couch, but Jane doesn't follow her. Instead, he tugs on her hand until she turns around to face him again.

"You know this doesn't have to be a big deal." He cautions her and for the first time since he stepped through the door, Lisbon realizes that not only is Jane nervous but he is also uncertain. The expression on his face tells her that for once in his life the man who predicts people's actions for a living has absolutely no idea what she's going to say.

The part of her that's been waiting for years to get one over him should be jumping for joy, but the revelation tugs unexpectedly at her heartstrings, prompting her into action.

"But it is a big deal," She counters, hoping to find the words to eloquently communicate how she feels.

"I know. I just don't want you to think that I'm going to walk away if I don't get the answer I want. That's not an option for me anymore. It hasn't been for a long time."

The gravity of his words resonates deep within her, only amplifying the urgency she feels. Still, a part of her is slightly amused by the fact that even someone as attuned to others as Jane would be so certain, and yet so incredibly wrong, about her decision.

Despite the fact that she's spent hours trying to figure out what to say to him, the words flood her mind with ease, spilling from her lips with a certainty she's only begun to feel now.

"You know for someone who claims he can read people pretty well, you're not doing a very good job right now."

She's not sure what makes her abandon her original tract, but the expression on Jane's face seems worth it. He doesn't tear his eyes away from her, but she can see that he's at least a little amused by her train of thought. Some of the intensity lifts from his gaze, replaced by a more relaxed interest, which only encourages her further.

Her own nervousness seems to all but evaporate as she tugs him closer, watching the flicker of candlelight dance across his eyes.

"What are you trying to say?" He finally asks, curiosity overpowering the confusion she knows he probably feels right now. Lisbon resists the urge to run her finger along his cheek, flatten those same creases around his eyes that were probably part of the reason she's always been so attracted to him.

She gives him a wider smile instead, squeezing his hand as she looks briefly around the room before turning her attention back to him, "it means that a girl doesn't spend half an hour lighting a bunch of candles around her living room if she plans on rejecting a proposal."

There's only a hint of anxiety as the words hang suspended in the air between them, but when Jane's face lights up in recognition and he smiles, Lisbon realizes there's a reason why all she ever needed to do was just say yes.

As if there was ever any other option.

"Are you surprised now?" She manages to ask before Jane pulls her towards himself, precipitating a very un-Lisbon like shriek of surprise from her as he lifts her slightly off the ground.

"You little minx," He threatens playfully before burying his nose in her hair, arms tight around her, "it's not healthy to keep a man my age guessing for so long."

"Oh ya? You're one to talk. Springing something this huge on me during one of the rare evenings we actually get to have dinner at home together, from something that doesn't come out of a plastic container," Lisbon counters, only realizing midway how ridiculous she sounds.

Jane catches her eye as soon as the realization settles, but the blush that crosses her cheeks deters him from pointing out the obvious flaw in her argument. And besides, he may actually be the happiest that he's been in years and he won't ruin that by arguing over some trivial technicalities.

Still, after a moment, Jane realizes that Lisbon is less likely to let her comment go without an explanation.

"I'm sorry." She sighs, finding a sudden interest in the carpet, "it's just that I figured that one of the things I'd be sacrificing when I let you in would be marriage. I never thought you'd want to do all this again and I realized that as long as we were together, that would be enough. I just wasn't expecting it ever, I am sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Jane promises, smiling wistfully as he captures her cheek in his palm, "I realized a while back that there are certain traditions that you gave up for me and I didn't think it would be fair. You deserve so much more than me already and-…"

"But you said yourself nothing will change, if you don't-…"

But Jane doesn't let her finish her thoughts, refusing to let that practical and sometimes overly cautious mind of hers infringe on their moment, especially when there's really no cause for her concern. Perhaps a few years ago he would have been hesitant to take this step with someone else again, but everything has changed since then.

He'd never contemplated a life after Red John but he is lucky to have had such a fulfilling second chance and if he's honest with himself, he would admit that the idea of Teresa Lisbon being his wife is something that fills him with a sense of purpose and belonging that he hasn't felt in a very long time.

"Trust me, dear. There is nothing I want more than to be married to you."

Lisbon's sigh of relief is barely audible and Jane has to smile, because only _his _Lisbon would have doubts in this particular moment after everything they've been through together. Still, instead of it angering him, her strange practicality warms his heart, reminds him why she slipped past his defenses so easily, why he fell in love with her without even meaning to do so.

"Good," Lisbon whispers, resting her forehead against Jane's shoulder, "but I do have one condition." She adds after a while, the gravity of her words betrayed by the flicker of mirth in her eye.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Jane asks, amusement underlining his query.

"I'm not changing my last name." Lisbon warns seriously, but her expression soon dissolves into a smile and Jane just pulls her even closer, capturing her lips in an overdue kiss.

The last thought that crosses Lisbon's mind before she loses herself in the embrace is whether it would a horrible fire hazard if she didn't extinguish all the candles before taking her fiancé upstairs.

xxx


	2. November 2011

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed and placed this story on alert and favorites lists. I really appreciate the positive feedback since this was a spur of the moment type of story. Thanks also to my beta, **Duppy Conqueror**, and **forthecoast** for telling me that the particular idea in this oneshot wasn't totally insane. I hope you guys think so too!

xxx

"_Justice limps along, but gets there all the same."_  
- Gabriel García Márquez

xxx

_**November 2011**_

Derek Lewis was a good man. He was a loving husband, a devoted father and a man who had given six years and two tours in Iraq for a country where merely decades prior he wouldn't have been able to marry his high school sweetheart because he was African American and she was not.

Yes, Lisbon thinks as she stirs the appropriate amount of skim milk into her coffee, Derek Lewis was, and still is, a good man who had vowed to protect his younger sister when their father walked out on them. A man who is now on trial for attacking and killing the man who had, aside from Derek's sister, killed over a dozen others, including Angela and Charlotte Jane and Sam Bosco and his team.

Lisbon isn't naïve, she understands that the justice system cannot be biased, but that doesn't stop the anger that wells up inside her every time she thinks about the fact that Derek Lewis should not be on trial for something that many people whose lives Red John indirectly destroyed, have dreamt of doing themselves. Still, she tells herself to have faith that the outcome will be in their favor.

It's a new experience for her, to sit on the side of the defense, but she's doing it. She sits a few pews behind the Lewis family and runs her fingers repeatedly over her mother's cross, unconsciously praying that this particular verdict brings an acquittal rather than a conviction.

Thinking about the other very prominent reason for her presence in court intensifies the pressure building at the back of her skull. Coffee probably won't stave off the impending headache, but she's not really sure what else to do. Going home isn't really an option.

Lately the pale unadorned walls in her condo have taken on a strange likeness to those in the few mental institutions she's visited. If she's not tired enough to just collapse onto her bed when she gets home, those walls seem to close in on her and she flees back to the office anyway.

And yet, she can't force herself to focus on paperwork tonight. So at around a quarter to nine, she makes her way to the break room, and pours a cup of coffee she doesn't really want, if only to occupy herself.

Inevitably however, her thoughts lead back to the very subject she's tried to avoid all day, because she knows that a large part of the reason why she even shows up at court every day, isn't because she's worried about Derek Lewis (even though she is). It's because even postmortem Red John simply will not stop haunting Jane.

It seems that in the six months since she received the call from local authorities in Vacaville explaining the circumstances surrounding the capture and subsequent murder of the man thought to be Red John, Jane has simply shifted his focus away from vengeance towards justice. He began putting all his efforts, and possibly some of his own resources, towards ensuring that Derek Lewis does not go to jail for doing something Jane himself had failed to do.

Lisbon had always thought that if Jane was unsuccessful in his revenge plot and Red John was apprehended in some other way, eventually the consultant would move on. However, in this particular scenario, that cannot be further from the truth.

She doesn't know if its guilt, envy or simply regret that initially made Jane so devoted to the Lewis case, but she does know that her constant worry for him has become so deeply rooted that the perpetual twisting knot in her chest is almost a comfort these days.

And it shouldn't be like that, damn it, which is why she doesn't feel guilty for breaking her silence and speaking her mind, regardless of what damage that may do to her already fragile relationship with Jane.

Everything is of course complicated by the fact that Jane has not been simply a member of her team for a very long time now. She's not sure when these feelings surfaced, but they're there, subtle yet daunting, following her every move. Sometimes they make her second guess her motivation for doing certain things, such as making sure Jane at least showers and eats a normal meal on a daily basis.

It's not a new habit of hers really. In fact, her watching out for him started way before she ever knew who Derek Lewis was, back when Jane used to call the CBI attic his home and could spend three days in the same suit, never once leaving the office. Thankfully, now he only retreats upstairs sporadically, usually in moments of deepest desperation or helplessness, which is likely why his car is still in the parking lot and he's nowhere to be seen.

However despite that knowledge, something stops Lisbon from going to check on him. She'd been so full of adrenaline and frustration when they'd argued earlier that she'd only felt the sting of his words much later. Her sense of self-preservation kicked in right away, preventing her from thinking about what Jane must be feeling and lending a comforting shoulder as she's been prone to do.

Instead, she finds herself stirring her coffee absent-mindedly, thoughts far away as she stares at an undefined spot on the counter. She's usually the one to make the first move toward reconciliation, unless he's really hurt her, which she thinks Jane isn't very much concerned with right now. This is why she lets her guard down for just a moment, allowing her surroundings to bear witness to the disappointment and indignation she feels at the fact that even now Red John is still able to come between them.

Still, perhaps her expectations of the consultant's behavior after their argument are wrong, because when she finally composes herself and turns around, Lisbon comes to find a slightly guilt-ridden Patrick Jane standing in the break room entry, peering at her with eyes full of remorse.

xxx

She's so surprised to see him, the mug nearly slips from her grasp, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jane as he steps further into the room. The only physical sign of his consternation is the way he rests his hands on the back of one of the chairs; however the regret doesn't fade from his eyes and that's what touches Lisbon the most.

"I thought you left," she says lamely, filling the silence with a lie simply because she doesn't think she has the patience to wait him out right now, coddle him until he gathers his wits.

It may not be fair, but a part of her feels really good about being able to exercise some measure of self-preservation; that is until a flash of hurt crosses his gaze as he figures out that she's probably lying.

Then all she feels is guilt, which in turn makes her frown. When Jane silently motions her to sit down, after still not saying a word, Lisbon has half the mind to turn him down and retreat to her office, but she can't do it.

His eyes keep her in a stranglehold, the rare vulnerability she sees there gives her pause and a moment later, she finds herself sliding into the proffered chair unwittingly. The only sign of her displeasure is the worry line etched into her forehead.

She half expects him to challenge her comment, but now that he's so close, their knees nearly bumping together, that familiar ache for him returns, twisting her heart unexpectedly and nearly disabling all her anger even before he says anything.

Sometimes, Lisbon thinks Jane has her completely figured out and uses the fractures in personality against her; however, another part of her, the one buried beneath the doubt and wariness, can tell that at this particular moment at least, the consultant is too deeply wrapped up in his own issues to have that agenda.

That very thought moves her into action. The hand wrapped around her mug itches to reach out and give Jane a sign of physical comfort but she isn't ready for that. Instead, she breaks the silence again to catch his attention.

Since she sat down, his eyes have been trained on a spot somewhere around her right shoulder, but once she says his name, his gaze snaps back to her, more alert and more revealing than ever before, making her think that whatever he is about to say is important.

That doesn't mean she isn't surprised when he finally speaks.

"You were right before," Jane admits, the timbre of his voice reflecting the sincerity in his words, "I spent so long focused on catching Red John that I still haven't been able to come to terms with his death."

He takes a pause there, perhaps waiting for her to say something, but Lisbon doesn't really know how to respond. Despite him making the first move towards reconciliation this time, she still wasn't expecting Jane to be so upfront right away. She expected him to be angry at her, try to get _her_ to apologize to _him_, not admit any fault of his own, let alone acknowledge her correctness.

The coffee burns as it travels down her throat but at least it alleviates the dryness in her mouth.

"It's disturbing, isn't it?" Jane continues, smirking in self-deprecation, "even after he's dead, I'm still letting him control me."

Although Lisbon knows he's just searching for validation, hoping she'll soothe his concerns and tell him that it's alright, her intuition tells her that this particular comfort isn't what Jane needs right now.

"It's not disturbing, but it's not healthy either," She declares with an assurance neither were anticipating. She realizes quickly that some time between her nearly losing it as she stirred milk into her coffee and Jane asking her to sit down, that part of her that's used to pushing people, particularly Jane, has resurfaced. And she's not going to let it disappear, because at the end of the day, regardless of how much she hates it, when people whom she cares about, especially Jane, need her, her own emotions take a back seat.

She can only hope that the gesture is appreciated and that when she needs someone's shoulder and support, it will be reciprocated. Somehow, she knows the reason why she doesn't hesitate to reach out this time and lightly squeeze Jane's shoulder is because with him, she knows it will be.

"You have to let us be there for you, even a little bit. We're all worried about you, especially with how involved you've become with the Lewis trial. It's just another way for you to prolong this battle but you have to remind yourself that for you, it's over already. He's dead."

She uses _we_ instead of _I_ on purpose, because she hasn't put all the pieces of herself back together yet and admitting that _she's_ the one most worried about him and _she's _the one whose thinking all this would be too much of a risk right now.

Still, that doesn't make it any easier when Jane looks back up at her from where his eyes were trained on the floor and silently lets her know that he sees beneath her farce, and shockingly, that he appreciates it.

Therefore, it shouldn't really surprise her that when she moves her hand off his shoulder he catches it, squeezing it lightly before letting her go. But it does, because she doesn't remember the last time Jane touched her. She also can't deny the warmth that originates at his touch and lingers there long after she flexes her hand and drops it to her lap.

The action throws Lisbon off kilter for just a moment, but rationale quickly sets in and she realizes something quietly to herself. Regardless of what he consciously thinks, the seeds for Jane's healing have already been sown. She knows that when Red John was still alive, the consultant spent every day living in fear that those closest to him, including her, were in danger. She isn't a psychologist, but her job requires a certain amount of observational skills and Lisbon knows that before Jane would have never allowed himself to show her how he felt with words, let alone physically convey his gratitude.

"I'm sorry that I got so defensive earlier." Jane breaks her reverie unexpectedly, "I'm just, I'm worried."

The knowledge that he has already begun to change makes Lisbon feel quietly elated and this time the apology doesn't surprise her, just warms her to the very core. In turn, she nods, as if to encourage him on, hoping he won't shut himself off like he has been through this entire ordeal.

There's only a flash of uncertainty in his eye before he continues.

"What if the jury decides to make an example out of Derek? What if they deliberate tonight and decide the same thing you've been telling me all these years?"

"Which is what?" Lisbon asks, for a moment confused about his train of thought.

Their eyes lock again and Jane exhales, uncharacteristically resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. "That regardless of how horrible Red John's crimes have been, no one should take justice into their own hands?"

The implication of his words seeps all the warmth through her body, but Lisbon prays that her expression doesn't betray how she truly feels. Of course, she's considered the possibility that the jury might come back with a conviction. Nevertheless, she has never really contemplated the possibility that everything she'd been preaching about justice over the years has stayed with Jane up until now.

Still, she doesn't feel triumphant about it. It just doesn't feel right that this is the connection Jane makes between her words and the current situation. It's not the time to take offense at his words though, and Lisbon has no intention of attempting to clarify things for him right now. Instead, she pulls her chair a little closer, ignores the slight thrill at their renewed proximity and says,

"If the jury decides that, then you have to be prepared for it. But I'd much rather you have faith in the fact that yes, the justice system can be blind sometimes and usually, that's the right course of action. But sometimes, in these rare situations, it's good to remember that the jury is comprised of human beings, whom you out of all people should know, are not immune to loss and are certainly not as blind as Lady Justice."

Jane stares at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, but Lisbon can already tell that some of the tension has left his shoulders. Eventually he straightens out a little, one hand coming to rest on his vest while the other slides onto the table.

"Faith, huh?" He echoes her earlier sentiment, lips pursed in thought as he glances at her briefly.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm too old for it." He admits a moment later, and if it weren't for the more lighthearted tone of his voice, Lisbon would resist the urge to smile, but she doesn't.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," she teases lightly. "Everyone, regardless of how old has to have a little faith in something."

She's in mid-sip when out of the corner of her eye she notices Jane's expression grow serious as he looks at her.

"I do," he counters quietly, not tearing his gaze away from her as if he's trying to communicate more than he can say, "I have faith in some things."

Lisbon pushes away the little voice inside her head that says that much like she refused to verbally acknowledge how much _she_ worries about him, Jane is having an equally difficult time admitting that he doesn't just have faith in things, but that he has faith in _her, _in whatever convoluted relationship they have.

The thought is of course reassuring, spreading a pleasant heat through her entire body, but it's also too much to acknowledge right now, too delicate a topic to breach, especially when a few blocks from here a group of twelve people are deciding whether a former soldier should go to jail for murdering one of California's most notorious serial killers.

"Well you should have faith in the justice system too," Lisbon eventually speaks, if only to cut the growing tension between them.

"After all, whether you like it or not, you inadvertently work for it." She adds good-naturedly afterward, hoping to infuse the moment with some levity. It works, because Jane graces her with a brilliant smile in return and though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, Lisbon feels like he's a far cry from the tightly wound and frustrated mess of a man he was during their argument, not to mention the last six months.

Although one night of conversation may not have any lasting effects, Lisbon decides that seeing Jane this relaxed is worth it. They sit in companionable silence for a while, but eventually Lisbon feels the beginnings of fatigue infringing on her. She hazards a glance at her watch and Jane notices.

"You should go, it's late." He suggests in a way that makes Lisbon think he's only doing so out of propriety and concern for her, not out of actual desire. And despite the calling of a warm bed and a few hours of much needed rest, she finds herself shaking her head.

"No, I'm good where I am."

Lisbon looks away but she knows Jane has already caught onto her motive. She decides right then that she's done enough pushing for the night and leaves the rest up to him.

Unsurprisingly, Jane takes the incentive.

"Okay, well then I'm going to make a cup of tea, would you like anything?"

Lisbon pretends to think for a moment, before glancing up at him with a hint of mirth in her eye, "try to find something edible in there, would ya?"

Jane stands up, stretching leisurely and chuckling at her request, "I think it would be easier for me to go get take out than scavenge for food after Rigsby worked a double."

He walks towards the counter anyway, presumably to make tea and Lisbon wonders whether he's just being rhetorical. Still, she doesn't let herself think long enough about it to halt her initial thought.

"Well then," She says, pivoting her entire body to face him, "what are you still doing here?"

The comment seems to catch Jane off guard, because he stops moving, pausing for a second before turning around with a smile on his face.

"That Mexican place down the street?" He confirms.

"Oh you're good." Lisbon teases, gaining a new confidence under his whimsical stare. She stands up and backs out of the break room, "I'll be in my office. You'd better hurry before they close."

She expects him to chuckle in response, but when he doesn't say anything, she turns around to find Jane right in front of her, an unreadable expression on his face. Lisbon barely has time to register the proximity before he leans forward and presses the tiniest of kisses to her temple.

While his earlier touch left her with goose bumps, the feel of his lips on her skin sends a current of heat straight down to her toes, engulfing her simultaneously in warmth and the unfamiliar stirring of desire.

Thankfully, Jane saves her the awkwardness of a reaction by stepping back and smiling at her. Still, her breath catches ever so slightly in her throat when she sees a hint of yearning in his eye, one that likely matches her own. It should scare her more, but it doesn't. Instead, it infuses her with a courage she hasn't felt in years.

She's both disappointed and infinitely thankful that Jane seems to make the decision for her and moves completely away, taking off down the hall before her heartbeat even settles.

In an effort to prove to both of them that she's unaffected, Lisbon calls after him. "Don't forget the extra guacamole!"

But Jane merely looks over his shoulder and laughs.

"I never do," he assures her, before disappearing around the corner.

It's only when she's alone in the hallway that Lisbon finally lets her guard down completely, resting her forehead against the wall. She is still reeling from their encounter but the expected fear and apprehension isn't there.

Instead, she finds herself smiling, because although she can probably no longer deny that she is falling for Patrick Jane, it appears that she's not alone and that he is, in fact, falling right along with her.

xxx


	3. February 2013

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: I always tell myself that I have the best readers in the entire fandom and you guys have totally proven that with your feedback for the last chapter. Thank you so much, you inspire me to write faster and thanks of course to **Duppy Conqueror** for editing! I hope you guys like this. Despite the slightly serious subject matter, I definitely enjoyed writing it.

xxx

"_It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was."  
- _Anne Sexton

xxx

_**February 2013**_

He senses her distress even before she steps through the door, but he makes no move to greet her. Instead he finds comfort in the way the ice cubes clink against each other as he swirls the low ball glass in his hand.

He's not really a drinker, never has been, and he's thankful for it, not only for his sake but also for the sake of the woman currently watching him out of the corner of her eye as she unloads the groceries.

He's grateful that he never developed an appreciation for hard liquor like his father did, because Jane men tend to be mean drunks. Although it's but a small comfort, considering everything else he's put her through in the years they've known each other, at least Jane can say he doesn't remind Lisbon of the hardships in her childhood, much of which stemmed from her father's alcoholism.

They've never discussed it directly, but Jane knows the memories still haunt her sometimes, which is why she keeps the hard liquor stashed at work and why there's usually only wine in her cupboard. It's also why he feels a slight twinge of guilt as he stares at the bottle of scotch he bought on the way here. It had been an almost unconscious decision; he hadn't thought about it as he found himself pulling into a corner store parking lot.

The news he'd received just three days prior had been easy to ignore while they worked an out-of-town case, but they'd arrived back to headquarters earlier this afternoon and with nothing to do and the rest of the team completing paperwork, Jane realized that at the very least he should return the dozen phone calls he had ignored while they were in Ukiah.

But somehow, he couldn't force himself to dial the number. Thoughts of the impending conversation left him with a sense of apprehension he still cannot overcome. He hadn't risked retreating to the attic, for fear of attracting attention from the team. So he slipped out of the office, intending to drive around to clear his head.

However, instead he ended up at the corner liquor store and a short while later, home; still unable to take a sip from the two fingers he poured himself fifteen minutes ago, an entire two hours after he settled on the living room couch with the bottle and a bucket of ice.

It seems that today he has been on the brink of action in every possible definition of the phrase. He's been on the verge of picking up the phone and dialing, he's been on the verge of drinking himself into a stupor just to forget, and he's definitely been on the verge of overcoming his fears about the past and telling Lisbon everything.

Now it seems the latter is out of his hands. He entertained the possibility that she would find out what happened from a third party, but his suspicion and desire to keep this concealed from her weren't strong enough to prompt him into action. Despite the growing tension between them, Jane feels a certain weight lift off his shoulders at the realization that he doesn't have to be the one to tell Lisbon anything.

That she already knows.

Still, as she makes her way into the living room, not hesitating to move the scotch out of her way as she plants herself on the coffee table to face him, Jane realizes right away that while he's glad she knows, the determination sparking in her green eyes informs him that the decision he's already made will not go over smoothly with her.

He tries to avoid her stare, setting aside the glass, and bracing himself for an argument, but as she's been known to do, Lisbon surprises him by placing a soft, almost conscientious hand on his thigh and speaking quietly.

"When were you going to tell me about it, if you were going to at all?"

Although her tone isn't accusatory, he detects a hint of disappointment in her words and it tightens his chest unexpectedly, eliciting a far deeper emotional response than he is prepared for. Yet, despite the guilt infringing on him as he finally gazes into Lisbon's eyes, he doesn't change his mind, maintaining the same unreadable facial expression as he clears his throat and leans back, affecting an air of detachment.

"It doesn't really matter. It's not like I'm going."

The remark seems to have its desired effect, for he sees her gaze darken, the determination engulfing her entire demeanor now as she removes her hand from his knee and resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous Patrick," Lisbon says far too softly, tone incongruous with her words. "This is your father, not some old acquaintance you never kept in touch with."

"Might as well be," He mutters back almost petulantly, refusing to relinquish his walls. He's glad he doesn't look away though, because the momentary spark of fire in her eyes resonates deep within him.

"Don't say that," she admonishes, visibly losing the grip on her own calm exterior. For the first time, Jane entertains the possibility that despite the present circumstance, this isn't just about him. He's not the only one who had a terrible relationship with his father and for whom this brings up terrible memories.

Of course, it's something that's always on the periphery of his mind, much like the knowledge that Lisbon always looks both ways when driving through an intersection and that she resists indulging in anything stronger than wine, even after a tough case.

Still, even as he stares into Lisbon's eyes now and processes this new bit of information, he finds himself unmoved.

Lisbon seems to sense this, if her frustrated exhale is any indication, and he visibly sees her struggle not to give up on him. A part of him soars at the sight, secretly elated that even after everything he's done (and failed to do) this amazing woman is willing to have faith in him, willing to push him, willing not to let him drown in self-pity and denial. It's a wonderful, soul unburdening feeling, but Jane blinks and it's gone, replaced by that cold numbness he's been feeling all week. He tries in earnest to ensure that thoughts of his father, the painful memories _he_ keeps hidden, don't surface enough to overwhelm him.

He knows that they have the capability to do so. Hell, part of the reason he had been institutionalized after Red John was because his coping mechanisms were crap. Though he hadn't realized it at the time, being abused psychologically (and physically) by the only parent he's ever known probably had a lot to do with that.

In some ways, Jane knows he's lucky to have reached that conclusion and learned not to blame himself for that extended moment of weakness. Yet on the other hand, that's probably the reason why he's having such a hard time letting go of this grudge buried deep inside him, a grudge he now has against a dead man; his own, unfortunate blood no less.

And suddenly, as if this is the first time he's learning about it, Jane feels a sting at the realization that his father is actually dead; taken unexpectedly in the middle of the night by the seizing of his heart, years of bad hygiene, shunning of medical attention, and an unhealthy preoccupation with whiskey catching up to him.

The fact that Jane hadn't told anyone or returned any of Pete's calls had given him the opportunity for denial, but having this conversation, having someone else finally acknowledge that his father has suffered a fatal heart attack throws him just a little off kilter.

It's a momentary lapse but Lisbon notices and seizes the opportunity to lean forward, wrapping her much smaller and warmer hand around his as he dares to meet her eye. Jane is immediately overwhelmed by an acute sense of shame as he realizes that his resolve is weakening and that she'll have to bear witness to it. Still, the knowledge isn't enough for him to wrestle his hand out of her grasp or to turn away the comfort and stability that she brings.

He's so deeply ensconced in his thoughts, attempting to process everything that's just happened that he almost doesn't hear her speak, but Lisbon is persistent, gently lulling his attention back to her with a slight squeeze.

"You know I almost didn't go to my father's funeral."

It's not what Jane expected to hear but a part of him, the one that's always been curious but too cautious to bring up the topic of Lisbon's father, keeps him silent, waiting for her to continue without interruption.

"I made all the arrangements obviously, with the help of some of his coworkers and their wives. They all kind of knew what was going on and they tried to lend a hand every once in a while without imposing too much. My father's short temper wasn't exactly limited to just my brothers and myself."

Her eyes glaze over when she speaks and Jane has the sense that she's reaching somewhere deep inside her to gather the strength for this. The fact that she's sharing this with him in what he assumes to be an effort to persuade him to change his mind imbues him with affection he didn't think he was capable of feeling in this moment.

"You don't have to tell me," He finally says, staring deep into her eyes, aware that in this admission he's already relinquishing some control, acknowledging that she may have a point in all of this.

"Listen anyway." Lisbon persists. Her tone is so imploring, Jane merely nods his head, aching to cradle her cheek but abstaining, afraid it might break her stride.

"I spent three days before the funeral convinced that I wasn't going to attend. My father was, of course, a respected member of his community and despite the circumstances surrounding his death he would be honored by a lot of people. I didn't really care though. I had focused all my attention on my brothers, making sure they were alright-"

At that particular moment, his expression must give him away because she leans back and nearly rolls her eyes at him, lips curving into a knowing smirk. "Yes, I know. I tend to worry about others when I don't want to deal with my own issues."

She says this good naturedly, but there's a trace of lamentation in her voice, as if she sometimes wishes it wasn't true so he keeps from goading her further, even if in essence by focusing on her, he finds himself borrowing her technique and ignoring his own emotions.

"I didn't want to face the fact that a small part of me was relieved that he was gone. I felt ashamed of that, because I knew that things were only going to get more difficult for us after his death. But I couldn't let go of the fact that in the long run, it would benefit my brothers and me more if our father was out of our lives."

Jane tightens their embrace almost unconsciously, and Lisbon gives him a smile in return, gaze settling on their intertwined hands.

"I ended up going to the funeral. And it wasn't because of any particular reason. Nothing extraordinary happened to me to push me to do it. I didn't suddenly remember the good times or stop feeling unburdened by his passing. I just knew that if I didn't go, I'd always regret it."

Her voice tapers off then and she looks up at him, meeting his gaze head on, communicating even more with just her soft but unwavering green eyes. Jane can pinpoint the exact moment that the memory washes away from her, when she shakes it off and returns to the present, mind and body both restored as her posture relaxes slightly.

Her expression grows somber just one more time and she reaches up and runs her thumb across his jaw. "I'm sorry for your loss," she adds quietly, catching Jane off guard.

But he doesn't have a chance to argue that logically he hasn't suffered any loss since he hasn't spoken to his father in so long, because Lisbon leans over and presses a lingering kiss to his forehead, smoothing her fingers through his curls and standing up.

"I know you have a lot to think about so I'm going to go wash this hellish day off of me and then maybe cook something, you hungry?"

Bewildered at her change of topic, Jane merely shakes his head, but Lisbon doesn't linger. Instead, she merely shrugs and walks towards the stairs. "Well I am, and you know how I hate eating alone."

It's actually not true at all, because for the majority of her adult life, Lisbon has had no problems eating by herself, but Jane knows this is her subtle way of ensuring that he won't disappear while she's upstairs. Though it pains him that she still thinks he might, he can't blame her. Even though they've been together for over a year now, he still kept this from her after all.

When he hears the shower turn on, Jane leans against the cushion and shuts his eyes, no longer interested in either the untouched scotch or the prospect of calling one of his oldest friends back. Yet ever so reluctantly, he pulls his cell phone out of his vest pocket and finds Pete's number in his address book, because this isn't about his father anymore.

It's about the woman upstairs, who still manages to have absolute faith in him regardless of his flaws, which he earnestly hopes he can overcome, because she deserves infinitely more than he can offer her.

And he should start by putting his issues with his father to rest.

xxx

The air is fresh and crisp and he lowers the passenger seat window, letting the breeze caress his face as he closes his eyes against the nearly blinding midday sun.

It's February but the worst of the winter rainstorm is over and everywhere around him, everything feels like it's renewed. There's even a hint of vitality in the air, a smell reminiscent of a morning after a hard rain. It's the kind of weather that almost makes him forget that he was just at his father's funeral, mourning a man he hadn't spoken to in over a decade.

Glancing to his left, Jane is confronted with another vision that has the power to temporarily erase every bad thought and emotion he's had since leaving the cemetery. He's not exactly sure how she managed to convince him that her driving his precious Citroën was a good idea in the first place, but he doesn't regret it now.

The driver's window is open and the gentle wind plays with the thin fabric of Lisbon's shirt, dark sleeves fluttering in contrast against the slightly freckled, pale skin of her arms. She's wearing aviator shades, ones she dug out of his glove compartment. They compliment her face, adding just that edge to her appearance that makes him contemplate asking her to pull over to the side of the road, because apparently they're not headed home.

He doesn't think about where she's taking him, but another thought does occur to him and Jane lets his thumb gently glide over the hand expertly maneuvering the stick shift to catch Lisbon's attention.

She turns to him just for a second, careful not to take her eyes off the road for too long, and he smiles in spite of himself, before speaking.

"You know I never asked why Pete called you after I hadn't returned his calls."

If Lisbon is surprised by his inquiry, she doesn't show it; instead she captures his thumb between her fingers and gives it a light squeeze.

"I gave him and Sam my card when I went to see them to find out where you and Danny were hiding, and I guess he kept it. For what it's worth, I think he was just calling me to make sure you were okay but one thing led to another and he told me."

There isn't a trace of guilt or remorse in her voice and Jane actually appreciates it. He isn't upset about the possibility of his past and present converging, but he is nonetheless surprised that Lisbon was able to forge this connection seemingly on her own.

His expression must somehow convey his train of though because after a moment Lisbon nudges him not too gently, "what's the matter?" she asks a little teasingly, lips curved into a smile. "You're not the only one with secrets, ya know."

It's meant to be a tease but it reminds him of something else he has failed to do and should rectify as soon as possible. This time, he actually does ask Lisbon to pull over and although she looks slightly confused, she obliges, maneuvering the Citroën to a rest stop just a quarter mile down the road.

Lisbon barely has time to turn off the engine before she feels two very warm palms grasping her cheeks and a pair of very demanding and familiar lips pulling her into an unexpected kiss. Still, she quickly reciprocates, momentarily shutting off all the questions swirling in her mind in favor of the embrace.

She shifts closer to Jane, tilting her head to deepen the kiss and running her hand through his curls, body awakening to sensations that she hasn't had a chance to fully indulge in for over a week now, not since the beginning of the case in Ukiah.

When Jane feels her hand slide down his vest, he's finally reminded of where they are and why he wanted to do this in the first place and pulls reluctantly away.

"Are you alright?" Lisbon asks immediately, pulling the sunglasses to her forehead and blinking against the sunlight. She looks both confused and concerned for him, which paired with the slight blush on her cheeks threatens to distract him again. Jane closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts again.

"I never apologized for keeping my father's death from you." He begins.

"Patrick you don't have-…" And she's cutting him off just as quickly, shaking her head both at his words and probably at the remorse she sees in his eyes, but Jane doesn't abate.

"No, I do." He persists, cradling her cheek in his palm, thumb ghosting over her skin, "and I am. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you, regardless of how I felt about it."

"I know." Lisbon whispers after a moment, brushing her lips against the inside of his palm, "but it's okay." She adds encouragingly.

"But it's not." Jane counters, still unable to let go of that tiny seed of guilt threatening to sprout inside him.

"But it is." Lisbon fires back and this time, the finality in her tone stifles any more arguments from him. He holds her gaze for a few seconds longer, before placing another kiss to her lips and reclining back against his seat.

They stay in silence, with hands intertwined until Lisbon restarts the engine. "You can make it up to me though," she says right afterward, the playfulness in her voice making Jane turn to look at her.

"How?"

"By getting your own slice of pie." She explains, smiling widely before sliding her sunglasses back on and turning onto the main road.

"So pie? Is that where we're going?" Jane asks, finally letting go of his worries.

"Oh please," Lisbon smirks, and he's pretty sure she's rolling her eyes by now, "as if you didn't know where we were going in the first place."

This time, he actually didn't but Jane doesn't tell her that. Instead, he smiles wordlessly and turns his head back towards the window, letting his mind wander as a feeling of peace and contentment, completely attributed to the woman driving his car, pushes any lingering traces of his past away.

xxx


	4. February 2012

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update, but I wanted this to be perfect! Thank you as always to my beta, **Duppy Conqueror**, for making that possible despite her busy schedule. I also wanted to take the opportunity to thank **LittleMender**, who sent me a very motivating PM shortly after the last update, encouraging me to write this quickly. Thank you, it meant a lot. And I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to **watchyouwalk**, for being such a dutiful and honest reader, who seems to genuinely enjoy my work and never fails to make me smile with her reviews. Thank you, darling.

xxx

"_Only in spontaneity can we be who we truly are."  
_- John McLaughlin

xxx

_**February 2012**_

The closer he gets to her room, the more Jane has to reassure himself that this is a good idea. Even though the only reason their plans were postponed was because of a case that took them out of the city and into a backwards little town outside Novato, Jane is nervous.

After realizing they'd have to spend a couple nights here, Lisbon immediately decided that their plans would have to be postponed until the following Friday. However, despite being one man down as Rigsby was still on desk duty after his injury, they wrapped the case up in two days. Subsequently, when Jane found himself alone in the drab hotel room this Sunday evening, an idea occurred to him.

They were both not doing anything. Okay, maybe Lisbon was doing paperwork but that could wait until tomorrow and within minutes, Jane was already planning their evening, an unfamiliar thrill prompting him into action.

However now Jane finds himself standing hesitantly in front of her hotel room door, wondering if he really should risk persuading the senior agent to go on a very impromptu first date with him while they're still technically on the clock.

Jane knows he can convince her. After all his powers of persuasion have been known to work on even the most stalwart subject, but a part of him doesn't want to use any tricks or manipulation on her, because this thing between them is new, wonderful and incredibly fragile. And he doesn't want to mess anything up.

It's true that in their professional relationship, Jane has done absolutely everything to make Lisbon question his motives, making it difficult for her to trust him, and it's important that he rectify that by ensuring that their personal relationship is not tainted by his usual undermining and deceit.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, Jane also knows the reason why he is so nervous is because his greatest defense mechanism, his most formidable justification for not acting on his feelings is gone. Red John is gone, stripping Jane not only of his vengeance but also his walls, which is terrifying, even for someone as seemingly confident as the consultant.

Jane learned a long time ago that affecting an air of confidence doesn't amount to the real thing. If anything, it can leave the person feeling more insecure and alienated from those around him; not that faking anything is really an option here.

No, because this isn't _just_ a date, and this isn't _just_ the start of the first relationship he's had since his wife's death, because this isn't _just_ some woman he met. This is Teresa Lisbon; a woman who knows him better than anyone else, who has seen him at his worst and been privy to all his secrets, and still, miraculously agreed to go out to dinner with him.

Jane realizes with a somewhat wistful smile that really this can't even be considered a first date. It's more like the fifth or sixth one, and surprisingly the thought doesn't intensify his anxiety.

Instead, he feels a certain degree of relief. Despite the daunting feeling that with Lisbon he won't be able to be anything other than himself, the fact that he's finally doing this, that he has the _freedom_ to do this leaves him feeling lighter on his feet as he thinks about how fantastic this could be.

He realizes right away it's time to bite the bullet and give this relationship a chance because they've already waited way too long. In fact, he really should have asked her out years ago. Without thinking further, Jane knocks on the painted wood, the sound echoing in the empty hallway, then fading into silence.

For a moment, he panics but then hearing the sound of rustling behind the door, he relaxes slightly, which is probably a mistake on his part, because when Lisbon opens the door, with a flash of surprise followed by a hint of nervousness in her expression, Jane feels his mouth go dry just a little.

He's eternally grateful that he caught her before she changed into sleepwear. He remembers a few instances in the past when he's seen her like that and he doubts he'd be able to handle it now. Not when there's nothing holding him back, nothing stopping him from reaching out and running a hand down her arm or across her cheek, except for of course propriety, and that with Lisbon's reflexes, he could come away with broken fingers.

Still, his gratitude quickly fades when he realizes that her leather jacket is gone and that the crimson colored camisole is sleeveless, exposing the defined yet feminine line of her arms while accentuating the curve of her waist in a way that distracts Jane enough that Lisbon has to actually clear her throat to get his attention.

He finally shifts his gaze to her face, giving her a sheepish look and a small smile as she fixes him with an amused stare. He wonders for a split second how he could have missed all of this about her before. He'd always known that she was an attractive woman, even more so in the last few months, but it wasn't until that Christmas party and the close of Derek's trial that he truly realized just how beautiful Lisbon is.

Jane knows this is all just a consequence of the fact that something is actually happening between them, but even that logic can't take away the thrill coursing through his veins, the lightness that's been following him around for weeks now.

Habit taking over, Jane finds himself shifting back and forth on his heels as he pokes his head inside and asks, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

He's pretty sure Lisbon can tell that he's not really acting like himself, but she doesn't give any signs of this. Instead, she smiles softly and leans against the door frame.

"No, not really. I was doing some paperwork but got distracted by an old episode of Seinfeld that I've actually never seen." She explains and Jane relaxes just a little, realizing he's hit on a potential conversation starter.

"Oh the one with Teri Hatcher?"

"Yes!" Lisbon nearly exclaims, "It's one of the most popular ones and I've never seen it, can you believe that?"

"It's okay. I've never seen it either." Jane admits, and then laughs lightly, enamored by how animated her eyes have become during the short conversation, turning from wary to excited within seconds.

He's momentarily sidetracked by the way she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and he almost misses the pivotal moment when she grows shy, eyes cast down as she glances down at the floor.

"Do you want to come in and watch it with me? It's only 10 minutes in."

The idea of spending the rest of his night watching television with Lisbon is so tempting, Jane nearly agrees, but at the very last second he remembers why he came up here in the first place and shakes his head. Seeing the first inkling of disappointment flicker in her eyes, Jane is quick to add.

"I came to see you, because I don't think we should wait."

This time, he doesn't avert his gaze to the floor or have to reach deep inside himself to drum up some confidence, because he knows he's making the right decision. He knows that whatever happens between them, he needs to take a chance and show Lisbon that he _is _serious about this; that his proposition at the CBI Christmas party wasn't just a fluke.

"Wait for what?" Lisbon asks, breaking his reverie but not his stride.

"Friday night." Jane explains, taking a step towards her. She doesn't move away as realization dawns on her, and Jane refuses to lose his momentum or have her doubt him, "I don't think we should wait another week to have dinner together."

He nearly holds his breath as he watches Lisbon contemplate; he doesn't mean to do it but when she opens her mouth to most likely object, he cuts her off, reaching for her hand at the same time.

"C'mon, you know I wouldn't ask unless the case was wrapped up and we were still here."

Lisbon exhales, probably still weighing out all the risks and benefits, but Jane doesn't move away to give her space. Instead his hand, of its own accord, abandons her palm and travels up her arm, giving into the temptation of touching her. He hears her slight intake of breath and sees the flood of color to her cheeks. When she says his name, Jane thinks that if she doesn't give him an answer soon, neither of them will be likely to leave the hotel room and that's not something that's in his plans tonight.

He has no intention of further aggravating Lisbon's professional side by doing anything other than having a simple meal with her while they're technically still on the clock; even if she's making it a little too difficult for him to think about anything except pulling her against him, and losing himself in her warmth.

Thankfully, some part of him realizes this and Jane puts some distance between them, a little relieved to see that he isn't the only one affected by their proximity. He doesn't let go of her completely though. Fingers glide down to curl around her wrist again, giving it a gentle tug as he catches her gaze.

"I'm tired of waiting, Teresa. Have dinner with me tonight."

And it feels like something altogether different when Lisbon smiles at him and says, "okay;" stepping back into the room only to retrieve her jacket and the keycard.

xxx

Twenty minutes later, as Jane navigates the Citroën through the darkened and deserted streets, he decides that he should have probably planned better. To his credit, he had tried to pick up a couple of brochures at the visitor's center near the hotel before coming up to Lisbon's room, but much like everything else in this area, that particular establishment had closed some time before 8pm.

Worst of all, he can sense Lisbon's amusement even though she's trying her hardest to suppress it. The soft sounds of some classic rock station break the silence in the car, until they reach a stop sign and sensing no urgency to move, Jane lets out a breath and finally faces her.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He asks, and is greeted with a guilty smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

"I do appreciate the spontaneity." Lisbon replies teasingly, unable to hide the mirth in her tone.

Still, even in the dimness of the interior, he can't stay mad at her for too long, not when the moonlight falls across her face in an angle that only accentuates the sparkle in her eye and the tempting curve of her lip.

He can still tease her back though.

"You know what, woman." He begins, deliberately turning his attention back to the road, "I don't care if we end up back in Sacramento. I am taking you out to eat at a place that has actual cutlery."

It takes Lisbon all of two seconds to catch onto his bluff and reply, placing a careful hand on his thigh, if only to see the surprise on his face, "or we can turn back around and go to that diner we passed a couple blocks back, because frankly I'm starving and I really don't want to wait four hours to eat."

Jane doesn't dare look over at her until the next stop sign for fear that he'll lose control of his precious car; the warmth emanating from her touch is already distracting enough. Eventually he does glance at her, and the fact that she's no longer hiding how she feels, a mix of adoration and enjoyment vivid in her expression, allows him to concede without shame.

"You sure you're okay with that?"

He really had wanted to make this first date memorable, take her somewhere for a seldom allowed indulgence, with a decadent chocolate dessert she can revel in and candlelight that would illuminate her features in a way that was sure to leave him breathless.

He's so wrapped up in his imaginings, Jane doesn't realize Lisbon has unclasped her seat belt and moved closer until he feels her drawing him closer, hand circling the back of his neck. At this point, all he can recall is the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon before her lips descend on his, erasing any coherent thought he may have.

He lets her take the lead but responds fervently, one hand slinking around her waist as he tilts his mouth to let her tongue in. He keeps a firm grip on the steering wheel, a part of him incredibly aroused but also terrified that even at a stand-still he may lose control of his car. He doesn't dare pull away though, wanting to prolong this for as long as possible, especially when Lisbon slides her tongue along his, fingers gripping his curls more tightly.

It's actually their second kiss, but this one is languid and deep, as if fulfilling the promise they made to each other weeks ago with that first unexpected embrace. He's so incredibly lost in the feel of her, that he doesn't even realize Lisbon has pulled away until a waft of air passes his lips. Jane opens his eyes to find her a hairsbreadth away, shock and arousal mixing potently in her eye. A part of him is somehow enthralled by the idea that she's just as affected (and surprised) by the intensity of what has just transpired between them.

He can tell now that she wasn't expecting it to turn into this, but is pleased to detect absolutely no regret in her demeanor. It leaves Jane feeling brave enough to reach out and run his thumb across her cheek as he says, "Alright, you've convinced me."

Lisbon grins in response and Jane turns back to the wheel, realizing that he doesn't need a fancy restaurant to make this night memorable, because he has this woman by his side; her warm smile and gentle eyes accentuated by the moonlight in a way that leaves him breathless like no artificial candlelight ever can.

xxx


	5. March 2014

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, especially those of you who went back and reviewed each previous chapter. You know who you are ;). It's much appreciated, trust me and I'm so very sorry for a late update again but real life is seriously kicking my ass right now. Thanks as always to **Duppy Conqueror** for editing this chapter so well despite being sick and thanks to all of you who are still reading this :).

xxx

_"So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty."  
- _Haniel Long 

xxx

_**March 2014**_

"You know it's not too late to change your mind."

The comment doesn't put her off as much as it makes her smile, reminding her that there is a certain comfort in knowing that some people, including her former boss, never change. It's a blessing really, Lisbon thinks, as she takes the seat opposite the older man, glad her sunglasses conceal the instinctual appraisal of her engagement ring. She doesn't really know what kind of ammunition that would give him.

"Funny," she replies with just the right hint of sarcasm. Something about the way Minelli leans back and tilts his head to the side sends a jolt of nostalgia through her. She realizes that in the two months since they last had lunch together, she actually missed him.

"What can I say?" Minelli shrugs, reaching for his glass of ice water, "I suppose retirement has made a comedian out of me."

"No," Lisbon quickly counters, smirking, "maybe just a little bit more bitter."

She watches as Minelli opens his mouth to retort, gaze narrowed at her as if ready to challenge her remark but thankfully the waitress arrives, cutting off any disagreement on his part. They both order without looking at the menu, this outdoor café being their usual meet spot. However, when Minelli swaps his usual roast beef on rye and fries for a chicken wrap and salad, Lisbon is surprised for a second, before realization hits her and she leans back in her chair.

"So, how is Mae doing?" Lisbon asks, hoping her tone doesn't come out too underhanded, because catching the former Special Agent in Charge off guard isn't as amusing if he anticipates it.

"Well, _she _sends her congratulations, to both of you." Minelli replies with a hint of annoyance, and if Lisbon didn't know him any better, she'd think he was serious in his disapproval of her recent news.

However, she's certain that all of this, including his greeting, is merely a way for him to tease; carry out some fatherly obligation that he hasn't exercised since his last daughter got married years ago.

"That's very sweet of her. Tell her we both say thank you."

The waitress chooses that moment to return with Lisbon's iced coffee, which forces Minelli to downplay his irritation, but it amuses Lisbon nonetheless when her old mentor frowns.

"Oh I'm sure she's already called Jane. For some reason, she's very fond of him."

"Why wouldn't she be?" Lisbon asks, swirling the straw in her drink, "if I recall correctly, Jane set the two of you up." She leans in to take a sip of the strong, cold brew and is thankful once again that she's wearing sunglasses, because they shield her surprise at Minelli's next words.

"Yes, he did. Right after he blackmailed me into giving him the names on LaRoche's list."

Regardless of how hard she tries to conceal her reaction, her smile still flattens out, but more importantly, Lisbon feels a coldness grow inside her, as if she'd accidentally swallowed an ice cube.

Minelli's words catapult her back into the past, particularly the night when Jane finally sat her down and told her everything that he'd been keeping from her. He spared no details, discussing how he contacted Minelli and kept a loaded present from Max Winter between two floorboards in the attic.

She remembers being more disappointed than surprised or angry. Remembers that the only thing that kept her from expressing that hurt was the fact that Red John's fate had been sealed in a different way, sparing Jane from executing his revenge and subsequently, sparing her from having to make a very difficult decision.

Still, it took her a long time to accept that Jane really had every intention of following through with his plan, obsessive to the point of using a man Lisbon knew he respected very much, in hopes of getting one over the elusive serial killer.

Although nowadays, she can recall those harrowing months during the Derek Lewis trial with a certain detachment, she isn't prepared to have Minelli allude to the past so abruptly. She can tell, however, that her former boss feels guilty for his crass words, so she doesn't let him apologize.

There's really no need. Considering how much of a support system he was for her when she first arrived at CBI and the years of both personal and professional mentorship, Lisbon figures Virgil Minelli of all people deserves an occasional pardon, even if his words leave a lingering trace of bitterness in her mouth.

"That was a long time ago, Virgil. And I personally think Mae has been a wonderful addition to your life." She says this as she gestures towards his ice water and Minelli's face immediately softens, expression turning somewhat wistful as he smiles crookedly, glancing at the rivulets of condensation on the outside of the glass.

"Yes, she has." He replies simply and quietly.

The change in his demeanor makes Lisbon's heart swell. She's never really believed in romance. Or love at first sight for that matter. Jane would probably say, and has on many occasions, that she is too sensible for such notions. But she does believe in companionship and deep, mutual affection as the root of successful relationships. There is something in Minelli's expression which tells her that he has found both, which leads her to the inevitable question she had never thought she would ask.

"So, is it getting serious then?"

It's actually kind of amusing to witness how abruptly the contentment fades from Minelli's eyes and he straightens up in his chair, clearing his throat as if to declare deniability right then and there. The humor is further punctuated by the fact that he and the counselor have been together for over two years now.

"Oh c'mon, Virgil." Lisbon lets out an exaggerated exhale, quite enjoying the opportunity to goad her former superior, "she has you trading your beloved roast beef for chicken wraps and lettuce. If that's not serious, I don't know what is."

She has to hide her smile as the older man stares slightly wide eyed at her, before answering with a shrug.

"She has me watching my cholesterol."

Unfortunately, their food arrives at that very moment, preventing Lisbon from letting out the laugh building inside her, but she still manages to retaliate after the waitress walks away, picking up a fry off her plate and pointing it at him.

"Whatever you say, Virgil, but I'm not letting you steal any of my fries, I've been looking forward to this all week."

xxx

Despite Lisbon's warnings, they end up sharing her plate of fries and even split a dessert. They keep to neutral topics for the rest of their lunch, steering the conversation away from relationships and towards work and family. Some time before the check arrives, Minelli unravels a roll of wallet-sized pictures of his grandkids, including his youngest daughter's first baby after which Lisbon regales him with stories of some of the stranger cases the SCU has worked during the holidays.

It's only when they've finished arguing over who will pay the bill that the conversation turns serious once more. She doesn't even notice the change in her former boss's demeanor until it's too late and he steps in front of her, staring down at her with a mix of guilt and affection.

"You know when I decided to retire one of my biggest concerns was leaving you behind on the job. I know you never needed protecting, but with someone like Jane on your team and the changing politics at CBI at the time, I was really worried that I made the wrong decision in leaving so early and abruptly, but you rose above it, just like I knew you would."

His lips curve into that lopsided smile that's never really changed and Lisbon can't control the emotions flowing through her as she listens to him. It's rare that anything, including a speech will elicit such a potent reaction from her, but when it comes from Minelli, from someone who Lisbon knows she could always and will always be able to rely on, she can't help the slight stinging in the corner of her eyes.

"Virgil…"

"No..." He persists, placing a resolute hand on her shoulder, "you may never hear this come out of my mouth ever again, so I suggest you listen." He explains half-teasing and Lisbon complies, despite the slight tugging on her heart.

"I hadn't thought about it then, mostly because he was one irritating son of a bitch to work with, but despite all his lesser qualities, Jane did risk his own well being by handling a firearm just to protect you and that's gotta count for something, so although I think you can still do better-…"

He lets out a chuckle then, and Lisbon can't help smiling herself, even though she can feel the blush rising under his gaze, "I really am happy for you, Teresa."

And Lisbon realizes right away that her former mentor really didn't have to say anything else to reassure her; just that simple genuine comment is enough. Minelli squeezes her shoulder and steps back but she doesn't let him go, instinctively pulling him into a hug, which he reciprocates after a moment.

"I'm happy for you too." She whispers against his shoulder before withdrawing and giving him a wide smile. In return, Minelli casts his sideways glance at her again and squeezes her arms before letting go.

They part promising not to skip next month's lunch and Lisbon walks slowly to her car. Although it's a beautiful and warm March afternoon, she can't really enjoy this rare Sunday off, because Minelli's words still replay in her mind.

She hasn't doubted Jane's feelings in a very long time, possibly since the very same conversation in which Jane had shared his secrets with her, but hearing those words from Minelli had given her a sense of affirmation she hadn't known she was looking for.

When she accepted Jane's proposal, she had absolutely no doubts about it, confident that both of them were committed to making this work and specifically that Jane wouldn't have proposed unless he was in it for the long haul.

Still, she had been subconsciously nervous when she first phoned her former boss with the news and although his disapproval would not have stopped her, knowing that he is supportive, to the extent that Minelli can be in this situation, seems to be the final push she needs.

xxx

She lets herself in quietly; suspicion that Jane is taking a nap confirmed by the familiar head of curls reclining on the arm of their living room couch. Still, Lisbon doesn't hesitate slipping off her shoes, tossing her sunglasses in her bag, and lying down in the small space between Jane and the back of the couch.

For several long moments, she simply rests her head on his chest and listens to his heartbeat. The methodic thudding nearly lulls her to sleep, but she can still detect the moment he wakes up and circles his arm around her, fingers trailing up her spine to stroke the curling ends of her hair.

Jane presses a kiss to the top of her head before stretching as best as he can beneath her and letting out a satisfied exhale.

"How was your lunch with Virgil? I'm sure he's still as displeased about the news of our engagement as he was last week when you phoned him."

He's probably still a little too drowsy from sleep to sense her impending proposition so Lisbon decides to approach this in a roundabout way.

Perching herself on her elbow, she refuses to let a freshly awoken Patrick Jane distract her from her thoughts and quickly asks, "How fast can you get Danny back to Sacramento?"

Jane raises an eyebrow at her, confusion coloring his features and subsequently emphasizing his attractiveness. He stares at her for a second, as if reading her face, searching for the real reason for her unexpected question. But Lisbon keeps her expression absolutely stoic hoping he won't figure it out before she has a chance to tell him.

"I don't know, but pretty quickly if he's willing to come. I think the last number he gave me had a SoCal area code, why?"

His fingers travel higher up on her spine, twining around her hair and Lisbon leans back into his touch, allowing a small smile as Jane watches her a bit warily.

"I don't want to wait," she says quietly, watching for his reaction, knowing that half the fun is pinpointing that exact moment when Jane realizes something. This time his eyes grow a bit wide and then a flash of affection sparks in them as he abandons her hair in favor of her waist, tightening his grip on her.

"Are you sure?" He whispers just as softly, exposing a tiny bit of aberrant uncertainty. Lisbon nods assuredly, reaching up to run her thumb across his cheek and then through his hair.

"I'm not one for summer weddings anyway," she shrugs afterward, smile fading slightly as Jane pulls her closer.

"I knew there was a reason why I asked you to marry me." He whispers thickly against her lips and before Lisbon has a chance to reprimand him for his jab, Jane pulls her into a kiss. It's soft and tender, just the brush of their mouths, but Lisbon still melts into it, some distant part of her brain reminding her that if something feels this good, this right it cannot carry with it doubt.

However, before she can deepen the kiss, Jane pulls away; reluctant but determined, with a hint of gravity lurking in his aroused expression.

"I'm telling you right now though that you are calling Virgil and explaining to him yourself that this was _your_ idea, not _mine_."

In response, Lisbon doesn't suppress either her smile or the slight warmth that slides through her as she thinks about her recent revelations about her former boss.

"Somehow," she says, rising up to meet Jane's gaze again. "I don't think he'll have a problem with it," she adds before leaning in for a kiss of her own.

This time, Jane has absolutely no objections.

xxx


	6. May 2012

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: I'm back! In my defense, real life has been absolutely insane lately. So much is happening, it's hard to keep up but I haven't forgotten about this story and a sudden spark of inspiration has prompted another update. This one was particularly fun to write and thanks my conversations with **forthecoast**, I've managed to finish it quickly! Big thanks to **hardly loquacious** for editing this so quickly despite feeling under the weather. I wouldn't be anywhere without my girls or my readers! Enjoy.

xxx

"_We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly__."  
_– Sam Keen

xxx

_**May 2012**_

A blast of cold air hits her flushed skin as soon as she opens the refrigerator and she relishes in the sensation, closing her eyes and leaning forward before triumphantly noting the fact that she actually has food in the house.

The revelation imbues her with a sense of purpose as she formulates a plan of action. Quickly becoming so preoccupied with taking out the necessary ingredients, she doesn't notice that she isn't alone until she feels a soft pair of lips on the right side of her neck and a warm but determined arm spanning her waist.

She stills for a moment, years as a cop have left her hyper-vigilant, instinctively assuming that unexpected physical contact means danger. But after a trail of wet open mouthed kisses that end below her ear, she relaxes into the embrace, snaking her own arm back and letting her hand bury in a sea of soft curls as she leans back for a real kiss.

The press of their lips sparks recollections of the night before and she shudders involuntarily, giving in as Jane turns her around and pulls her tightly into his arms. The action leaves her back completely exposed to the cold air wafting from her refrigerator, but the duality of that sensation contrasted with the heat of their embrace only adds to her arousal, pushing thoughts of breakfast and cooking far, far away.

Eventually however, they do break apart, but the sight of Jane flushed from sleep and with eyes turned almost cobalt from desire does nothing to relieve the heat building inside her. She can't help closing her eyes for a moment, trying to center herself, wondering if perhaps sex with Jane will permanently affect her concentration, or if it's just a consequence of "the first time."

It's only when he reaches behind her and closes the fridge door while simultaneously nuzzling her neck that Lisbon realizes that it's probably not just a one time occurrence. The thought leaves her internally smiling to an almost inappropriate degree.

"It's early." Jane murmurs unexpectedly against her neck, his soft breath leaving goose bumps trailing along the flushed skin of her throat.

"Really early," he adds after he lifts his head and Lisbon follows his gaze to the living room, where through the window she can see that it's still dark outside with only a faint trace of light peeking out from the horizon.

"True." She nods lazily, returning his languid kisses with one of her own, aimed at the side of his jaw. Though the action has its desired affect, earning her a distinct masculine grunt and a more possessive hold, Lisbon thinks the kiss affects her more. The brush of his stubbled cheek beneath her lips makes her shiver.

Despite that, she uses her last modicum of control to run her hands from his waist to his shoulders as Jane leans slightly back to face her. His lips are just a hairsbreadth away from hers and her breath catches in her throat as she confronts the unmistakable longing in his eyes.

The separation lasts only a moment though as he hungrily seeks out her mouth and walks her backwards towards the couch, murmuring something about rectifying her mistake before tugging her robe open.

xxx

Next time she wakes its well into the morning. A glance at the wall clock confirms that it's nearing noon already, but she doesn't move an inch, preferring instead to watch Jane as he sleeps.

He rests comfortably against her, limbs intertwined with hers, a firm grip on her waist. A part of her beams with female pride while the other smirks, noting that while Jane is by far the most unique man she's ever met, he's still quite typical when it comes to specific male behavior, including sleeping like the dead after sex.

Although the thought brings an indulgent smile to her face, she's also a bit relieved to note that Jane seems to be actually getting the much needed rest. Their last case had been a tough one, incredibly draining on all of them. And while she doesn't regret how they spent the night instead of sleeping, she's glad Jane is catching up on his now.

With a mandatory day off following their return from Modesto, Lisbon decides to do the same, but, unlike Jane, she can't seem to shut her mind off. Be it his proximity or the lingering soreness of her limbs, Lisbon's thoughts can't help shifting to the night before.

While their morning had been a bit more playful and even a little rough, the night before had been slow and languid but equally explosive, leaving not only her body but her mind buzzing for hours after. She'd of course been considering what it would be like to have Jane in her bed for quite some time now, possibly a bit more so since they started dating two months ago, but no consideration had prepared her for what it was really like.

It certainly hadn't prepared her for the moment when he pressed a line of sacred kisses up to her ear and quite seriously said, "you know this is it for me," before sliding into her.

That promise paired with the intensity of the moment unraveled her much faster than she would have liked but thankfully she hadn't missed the second Jane let go, committing to memory the way he relinquished all control, trusting her to see him at his most vulnerable, something that no other woman in the last ten years had been privy to.

Despite the fact that they hadn't quite planned it, Lisbon is aware that last night had been in the works for quite a while. However, she's still slightly in awe of the fact that it's really Jane lying besides her, the same man who started out as a thorn in her side and ended up being the one person who slid past all of her defenses.

The thought prompts distinct recollections of heated touches, lingering looks, and drawn out kisses. Distracted, Lisbon doesn't realize that she has unconsciously begun running her toes up and down Jane's leg until he stirs beneath her, his grip on her tightening at the first sign of wakefulness.

"Morning again." He murmurs into the crown of her head and Lisbon blushes unwittingly at the thickness of his tone.

"Sorry for waking you." She replies softly without looking up but Jane makes a small sound of protest and trails a curious hand up and down her naked side, dangerously close to the swell of her breast.

"Nonsense, I should be thanking you." He counters, lips brushing against her forehead as he buries his fingers in her hair.

"To think," he adds, pulling her up until they're face to face, barely an inch of space between them, "that I wasted all this time sleeping when I could have been doing this instead."

He doesn't give her a moment to think, instead pulling her into a kiss right away, mouth claiming her with a possessiveness she probably wouldn't have allowed if it weren't for the stirring that materializes deep inside her.

"You are insatiable," she teases as soon as they pull apart, but despite the light inflection in her tone, Jane's eyes darken in response, gravity seeping into them as he runs his thumb across her cheek.

"It's not my fault you've teased me every day for the last seven years."

The warmth of his breath on her lips paired with the sincerity in his voice tugs at her heart somewhat unexpectedly.

"I'm glad we did this," she whispers somewhat bashfully in response, peering at him from beneath hooded lashes.

Jane perhaps sensing that this moment might be a little too intense for both of them, gives her a light kiss before replying somewhat light heartedly, "Me too. Except of course you had to go and subvert all my romantic plans."

"Oh I did not! And what plans?" Lisbon reacts, leaning back in mock indignation. The mischievous glint in his blue eyes lets her know that he intends only to tease, but she plays along, a part of her curious about whether he actually had plans or not.

One of the more surprising but equally enjoyable things she has learned from dating Jane is that the man is a hopeless romantic and not in the extravagant gift giving and champagne toting type of way, but in the quiet and attentive manner that means something. However, there is, at times, no shortage of pampering or outrageous gestures when it comes to him, so she wouldn't be surprised if Jane had thought about this evening in advance.

"Yes I did, but you had to ruin them all," the man in question interrupts her reverie with a dramatic sigh and glances at the ceiling. His features are perfectly schooled into an expression of mock disappointment save for the slight twitching of his lip.

"You know," she begins, voice taking on a huskier edge on purpose as her fingers dance along his stomach." You didn't have to do anything; you could have stopped me."

"Like hell I could." Jane grunts, catching her wrist before her hand disappears between their bodies, "I'm defenseless against you and you know it."

Lisbon smirks, secretly enjoying the effect she has on him as his breathing escalates; a plan already formulating in her head as his grip on her tightens.

"Not so defenseless," she murmurs, lips curving upward wickedly, "It's not like I used handcuffs on you."

Her smile turns into a full blown grin as Jane audibly groans, an expression of pained arousal leaving Lisbon feeling quite triumphant. She steals a moment to revel in her success before executing the last part of her plan and slipping off the couch. Grabbing her discarded robe from the floor, she dashes into the kitchen just in time for Jane to mutter something about her being the death of him under his breath.

xxx

Much later as the sun once again dips below the horizon from her position curled up on the couch Lisbon can't help the inkling of disappointment as she watches Jane button up his vest.

Although it's Saturday night and neither has to work tomorrow, somehow without even really discussing it, they both agreed that it would be best to spend the night apart. It seemed like a good idea earlier when she'd mentioned that he might eventually need to return to his apartment for a change of clothing. However now, watching him redress in his armor again, she feels a tiny bit of regret for the suggestion.

"I could stay you know." Jane reminds her, invariably reading the disappointment in her expression, but Lisbon shakes her head, giving him a lazy smile as she stifles a yawn.

"Nah, I have a lot of errands to do tomorrow and something tells me you'd be a distraction."

Despite the slight dejection in his gaze, Jane agrees, sharing her brief laugh as he puts on his suit jacket. "I can't argue with you there," he adds with his signature grin in place and Lisbon can't help rolling her eyes as she rises off the couch to stand in front of him.

"Of course you can't." She mutters, shaking her head and without thinking, straightening out one of his lapels from where it had caught in the rest of the fabric.

The sheer intimacy behind the gesture resonates with both of them, and a flutter of warmth blooms inside her as they gaze at one another, the moment intensifying as the seconds tick by.

It's only when Jane wraps his hand around her wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze that Lisbon breaks the silence, any worry or anxiety fading when she finds quiet strength in the man standing before her.

Although she faces down criminals and risks her life on an almost daily basis, Lisbon knows there's a difference between putting her physical well being on the line and trusting her heart to someone. Although the consequences from both can be equally painful, she knows the scars from the latter are far more permanent and deep.

Still, she doesn't second guess herself, choosing instead to focus on what's right in front of her and what has likely been there all along. Without hesitating she leans forward and presses her lips against Jane's neck before returning his promise.

"I hope you know this is it for me too."

And when Jane smiles softly at her, the creases around his eyes growing more pronounced as he says, "I never doubted it for a second, my dear," the admission doesn't come out presumptuous or arrogant. Instead, it sounds genuine and Lisbon returns his smile as she realizes that, despite the fact that this man can be the most insufferable creature on earth, the fact that he knows and accepts her faults just as she does with him is what gives her confidence that this will work out.

Maybe, she thinks later as she watches him drive off in his archaic blue car, it makes all the difference.

xxx


	7. January 2012

**Lovely As You Are**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Rating: T

Spoiler: None

A/N: Huge thanks to **hardly loquacious** and **forthecoast** for helping me on this one. Honestly, it was the most difficult chapter to write and without them, I probably would have either posted something ridiculously out of character or scrapped the entire concept! That said, I really hope you guys enjoy this and since I've been a bit cruel with the mixed up chronology, I will remind you all that this takes place a little bit before J/L's first date, which is chapter 4 in this series. As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, putting me on favorite lists and alerts, I appreciate it more than you know.

xxx

"_Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future.__"_  
-Fulton Oursler

xxx

_**January 2012**_

She knows that she's not alone, knows that there's a steaming cup of coffee in her hand and that Jane is sitting besides her, ready to cater to her every desire. She's grateful and maybe even a little warmed by the fact, but she simply does not have the energy to even lift her head up and say thank you.

Luckily, the usually restless consultant doesn't seem to mind and sits quietly besides her, as though he's keeping vigil at her bedside. The irony of that particular thought doesn't escape her, and her eyes unconsciously flicker to the double doors separating the ER waiting room from the rest of the hospital.

In the process, Jane catches her glance and Lisbon finds herself staring into incredibly concerned blue eyes, ones that as of late have been far more expressive and honest than in the many years she's spent looking into them.

However, right now their newfound closeness makes her uncomfortable so Lisbon looks sharply away, avoiding his worried stare.

Jane doesn't say anything, doesn't even flinch and Lisbon momentarily wonders how much she can actually push him before his resolve weakens and he says something.

After all, he's already done so much.

From the moment he arrived on scene, he'd been the stable rock she didn't know she needed. She's still not sure how he figured out that she was so affected by what happened; somehow he did though. And despite still feeling like she might collapse from worry at any moment, Lisbon knows she would be far worse off without Jane by her side.

The revelation prompts a fresh wave of anxiety, threatening to divest her of the little control she has left; so she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, leaning her head against the wall behind her. But it's not until she opens her eyes and finds Jane looking at her with a non-pitying smile that she realizes that his presence relaxes her more than anything else at the moment.

Jane doesn't keep his gaze on her, somehow instinctively knowing that it would overwhelm her right now. Instead he takes a sip of his tea and mimics her position, reclining against the wall – though his body is slightly turned towards her. A part of her yearns to accept the quiet comfort he is offering, but her responsible, professional side is acutely aware of their surroundings. She doesn't run her hand along his arm like she so desperately wants to or rest her head on his shoulder, regardless of how inviting it is.

Lisbon realizes immediately that the very difficulty of restraining herself discredits the reluctance she's been carrying around since they kissed. She's never been an open person, experience teaching her from an early age that sharing your feelings meant exposing a weakness and that being in control of your environment did not go hand and hand with emotional vulnerability.

It's why she's secretly always admired Jane's resilience in that respect. The damage Red John did to his family left deep and dark holes in Jane's heart but between the two of them, he has always been the more unguarded person, even when he was wading through the darkness. Lisbon remembers specifically the numerous nights spent talking either in her office or up in his attic, more so during the Lewis trial and after. She remembers the way he was so quiet at first, simply needing her presence; then how he opened up bit by bit, sharing with her memories both from his childhood and his past.

It's almost cliché that the revelation comes under such duress but Lisbon pushes that thought aside, focusing instead on overcoming her innate desire to keep everything locked away. Although Jane has been remarkably undemanding and supportive, having this awareness has given her clearer picture of everything, including the tiny cracks in Jane's façade. Despite affecting an air of absolute calm, she can see the way his fingers tap occasionally against the Styrofoam and the way his own eyes periodically dart to the double doors.

The fact that he's trying to conceal his own worry and possible confusion over why she has shut down during a time when she would usually take charge gives her the strength she needs to break the silence between them.

"The only time my father ever raised a hand on me was the night of my junior prom. A group of us went to a friend's house afterwards and I'd gotten home kind of late."

She knows it might seem a little insane to bring something like this up right now, but it seems like the most natural thing to do. The way Jane looks on so encouragingly, just a glimmer of surprise in his expression but nothing more, keeps her going.

"He'd been drinking obviously but I'd been having so much fun that night that I didn't think about it at all. I hadn't realized he was in the living room waiting for me until it was too late."

She detects Jane's first sign of anger right away. It's subtle but the way he sets his jaw and momentarily diverts his gaze to the floor betrays his outward calmness. The observation gives her pause but Lisbon realizes that it's a little too late to stop and that frankly she doesn't want to. Even divulging as little as she has now has given her an overwhelming sense of lightness, and she wants to keep going, partly to unburden herself and partly to clear up Jane's well concealed confusion at her state of mind.

"He was acting completely irrationally, accused me of sleeping around and pinned me to the wall. There was a near empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and when he raised it, I knew he was going to hit me with it. I prepared myself for it."

Unlike her previous lack of awareness, when Jane's hand gingerly covers hers, Lisbon feels every point of contact, every ridge on his slightly calloused fingers as they settle on top of hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. The touch soothes her, preparing her for what she knows is the most difficult part of the story.

"Neither of us noticed Tommy coming down the stairs until he shoved my father out of the way, which only made my father even angrier and he…"

Lisbon doesn't notice her own voice breaking until Jane cuts her off, turning completely towards her with determined but sympathetic eyes. "It's okay," he says encouragingly, words as smooth as velvet and equally calming to her nerves.

"He broke the bottle over my brother's head and he spent two days in the hospital. It was the closest my father ever came to losing us, but when CPS came to interview us-…"

"You covered for him." Jane finishes her thought and Lisbon nods her head, refusing to feel shame about it, even after all this time. She's seen first hand what children in foster care go through and looking back on it now, she doesn't regret it, not _that_. Not when she has so many other things she wished she had done differently, like had the strength to shove her father off before he nearly killed her brother.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?"

At another time, it might have been irritating that Jane was so attuned to her train of thought, but right now it gives Lisbon a strange sense of clarity. Jane rarely, if ever, feeds her any platitudes so she can't help but take notice of this, even if a part of her refuses to believe it.

"I know that," she whispers half-heartedly, staring at their intertwined hands, "but witnessing Rigsby getting shot, because the perp drew his gun on me and Rigsby tried to distract him…it just…"

Her voice trails off, but this time Jane doesn't interrupt her, knowing in his painfully intuitive way, that _she_ needs to be the one who reach the conclusion that neither of the situations, although carrying with them many parallels, are her fault.

Teresa Lisbon, the Senior Agent knows that.

But Teresa Lisbon, the loyal friend and protective sister is another matter entirely.

As a result, she struggles to articulate herself, unable to put in words what she feels.

"It brought you back to that moment." Jane fills in for her.

"Yeah," Lisbon nods in relief, as if hearing the statement out loud is exactly what she needs to snap out of her catatonic state. Jane seems to notice the transformation even before she does. And when she looks back at him, encountering warmth and understanding, she finds herself smiling almost involuntarily.

"You know Rigsby's going to be okay," Jane says, reminding her that if it were anyone else saying this, she wouldn't believe it.

But with him, it's different.

She knows he wouldn't say that to her unless he meant it. He's lied to her numerous times before about a lot of things, big important, life changing things, but never about her feelings. He wouldn't offer cold comfort, wouldn't say anything just for the sake of saying it especially in this situation. Instead, if he thought Rigsby was truly in trouble, he wouldn't say anything at all, maybe just hold her hand a little tighter.

The thought takes her back to the Christmas party, how he'd stood underneath the garland lights, looking eerily calm as he leaned in and kissed her. She remembers being absolutely stunned by the action, even though a part of her had anticipated (even wanted) it. Afterward, he had stepped away from her, even though she could see that was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he gave her the space he knew she needed, but not before letting her know that he wanted to take her out to dinner at some point.

Something about the way he looked at her as he walked away told her that he'd thought about kissing her for a long time, but despite how close they had become, it was much too new for her. Still is. She hadn't given him an answer right away, needing time to process both her confusion and the exhilaration she felt at the possibility of saying yes.

Jane didn't seem too surprised by her decision, expected it even, and a part of her was warmed by his patience. He understood that she is a person who considers the pros and cons to every situation, carefully weighing out each option. She knew that she had feelings for Jane for a long time, but Red John had been too great an obstacle to overlook. Jane's pursuit of revenge made it impossible for her to acknowledge whatever she felt for her consultant, because as long as the serial killer existed, Jane would never be able to move on. But now…

Well now, she knows she is just scared and maybe it's time not to be.

However, before Lisbon can say anything, the double doors fly open and the nurse who initially checked Rigsby in walks towards them. Lisbon doesn't even realize she's holding her breath until the nurse tells them that Rigsby is going to be okay. Instinctively she turns to Jane, a wave of regret pouring over her as she thinks about what she wanted to say, but he doesn't look the least bit perturbed.

"I-…" She starts, but he places a warm hand on her shoulder and nods in understanding, "go see him, I'll call the others."

With that, Jane flips his cell phone open and walks away, leaving Lisbon staring after him until the nurse ushers her away.

xxx

Aside from the thick bandage covering his upper arm and the tiredness in his eyes, Rigsby looks as normal as he did this morning when he and Lisbon left CBI to pursue their lead.

Still, when Lisbon first steps into the room, she has a brief flash of brother's small bandaged body surrounded by wires and beeping machines and she has to reassure herself that everything is okay.

"How are you feeling?" She asks in lieu of a proper greeting and edges closer to the exam bed Rigsby's sitting on. The bullet was a through and through and didn't require surgery but her guilt amplifies as she glances at the spot of blood seeping through the gauze.

"It's not that bad." Rigsby replies quickly, as if picking up on her train of thought. And when he looks at her, all sheepish eyes and hopeful smile, he does indeed look like a younger sibling who hopes he isn't in trouble. The comparison is too much and Lisbon shuts her eyes, willing her mind to stop playing tricks on her.

Her expression must betray what she's thinking, because Rigsby looks positively startled when she looks at him again.

"It's really not that bad, Boss. I barely felt anything." He tries to convince her and after a moment, the internal guilt fades away just enough for concern to take precedence, weighing her down as she leans against the wall opposite the bed.

"You know I can't even yell at you, because you basically did nothing wrong."

"You can if it will make you feel better." Rigsby supplies somewhat cheekily, and successfully coaxes a smile out of her.

"I won't." Lisbon shakes her head, a low chuckle escaping as she glances down at the floor, "I'm glad you're okay though, Wayne."

"Oh me too, Boss." He agrees enthusiastically, with just the right bit mirth in his tone, reminding Lisbon once again that while other people may underestimate Wayne Rigsby, she never has. She knows he's not all brawn, that he's actually extremely intelligent, has an eclectic taste in music, and a wry sense of humor.

But most importantly, he is fiercely loyal and respectful of women, reminding her distinctly of her middle brother. It breaks her heart in a way, because before her sits an example of what Tommy could have become if he had chosen not to let his past haunt him.

Still, Lisbon is also grateful that she works with people she can admire, who have been through difficult times and didn't crumble under pressure. In the end, it gives her hope that eventually Tommy will be okay too, and that one day he won't be haunted by the specter of their father.

"Thank you," She says, smiling wider at Rigsby's confused expression, "for having my back today." Lisbon elaborates, feeling a swell of emotion as Rigsby's expression changes from confusion to disappointment.

"I should have anticipated that Rodriguez is the type to retaliate not surrender when he has another gun pointed at him." He counters disapprovingly.

"Yes, and as your superior, I should be pissed as hell at you right now, but I'm not." she persists, an assertive edge to her voice as she tries to make him understand.

Rigsby doesn't say anything, whether out of respect or fear, Lisbon isn't sure but she refuses to let him be disappointed in himself.

"I'm not angry because you put the team before yourself and I'm proud of you for that." She finishes with a soft smile and a squeeze to his good shoulder.

At first, Rigsby looks like he's going to argue but after she fixes him with her patented stare, his face relaxes into a bashful smile and he glances down at the floor before saying, "thanks, Boss. That means a lot coming from you."

"Anytime, Wayne. Just don't ever do it again, okay?" Lisbon asks in earnest, and Rigsby nods in response, a lopsided grin on his face.

"I'll definitely try." He vows and Lisbon can't help but share in his light laughter.

That's how Van Pelt and Cho find them a few minutes later, both looking slightly winded but immediately relieved upon realizing that their friend is okay.

"Grace." Rigsby's attention is immediately consumed by the redhead and the way he breathes out her name makes it seem as though no one else is in the room.

"We drove straight from Oakland as soon as Jane called, are you alright?" Van Pelt asks in turn, obviously shaken but trying very hard to conceal it. Although the two haven't dated in over a year, it's very clear to Lisbon that they care deeply about each other. Thus, she ignores her role as their superior and merely shares a knowing look with Cho, whose stoic expression shifts just a little when he sees the two talking.

Their quiet conversation reminds Lisbon of the person missing from the room, which in turn fills her with a sense of urgency. Now that she's confirmed that Rigsby will be okay, her stomach twists with anticipation as she realizes that she can't put it off any longer. She has to talk to Jane, and she has to do it now.

She mumbles some excuse about getting some coffee for everyone and while Rigsby and Van Pelt dismiss her quickly, too engrossed in each other, Cho stops her on her way.

"He went down to the gift shop, probably determined to buy Rigsby the biggest and most obnoxious stuffed animal in the store."

It's his turn to smile knowingly at her but Lisbon is far too preoccupied to be either embarrassed or annoyed by her transparency. Instead she nods a quick thank you and slips out of the room, walking as swiftly as she can towards the elevators.

There is a mountain of paperwork waiting for her back at the office, as well as a dozen phone calls from her superiors inquiring about today's situation, and she will deal with all of that as soon as she can. But for right now, she has an entirely different goal in mind, and a long overdue dinner invitation to accept.

xxx


End file.
